


the story of a dead boy walking

by TheSilenceIsKillingMe (TheVoice21)



Category: Danny Phantom
Genre: Angst, But it's not exactly a super angsty story either, Canonical Character Death, Danny is sad, I don't think it's super hectic but I wanna be safe, I mean it's only 1065 wrds so it can't be that angsty, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Minor Character Death, Not a very happy story, This idea held me by the throat and would not let go, Which is Understandable, and I've read a LOT of teh fanfics, but still, no beta we die like danny, please understand I've only watched like 11 episodes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-22 03:46:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30032538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheVoice21/pseuds/TheSilenceIsKillingMe
Summary: Danny was born on one of the coldest days of the year, and he knew that was where he belonged.Danny died on one of the hottest days of the year, in a place he very much did not belong.
Relationships: Danny Fenton & Tucker Foley & Sam Manson (Implied)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 22





	the story of a dead boy walking

**Author's Note:**

> Ha ha, I hope u guys enjoy this, it's kind of rushed.

Danny was no stranger to the cold. Growing up in Amity park meant his winters never went over 10 degrees. The distant white had never been far at all, come early November it came down in tenfold. His childhood was spent gazing out upon a white wonderland, watching his breath fog with every puff and his ears redden to the very points.

Danny grew up on snow days spent with Tucker and Sam, rolling about in the thick layers until their hands were too cold and too red and too sore to move and they were forced inside again. Neither Tucker nor Sam could appreciate the joys of snowball fight to it’s fullest, they were meant for the warm sunshine of summer.

Danny was born on one of the coldest days of the year, and he knew that was where he belonged.

Danny died on one of the hottest days of the year, in a place he very much did not belong. Sam and Tucker had been curious, but Danny knew it was dangerous, so he alone ventured in. 

The hazmat suit had been terribly stuffy, overbearing and just on the wrong side of ‘too warm.’ Danny knew heat but the closer and closer he crept to the portal, the more overwhelmingly _hot_ it became. His breathing was ragged, his body was slick with sweat and-

Time was suddenly at a jarring halt, a flicker in a long sequence drawn out too long, blurred at the edges and nonlinear.

It started at his core. Not his heart, oh no, _his core_. Somewhere deep inside his chest, just to the right of his heart. It was thick and pooling, goopy and green, it seeped from his core, drenching everything. The darkness it brought was all-encompassing, overpowering his sight completely, silencing his ears and crawling, ever so slowly down his throat, clogging it entirely until it was too dry to swallow and too hoarse to scream.

Danny did not know what it was but it was dark and all-consuming and terribly frightening. There was no life to it, only an empty _deadness_ that consumed all the warmth in his body with such greed Danny forgot there was ever light, to begin with.

Danny felt it ooze down his throat, into his heart, clutching it in such a vice grip Danny feared it may have crushed it completely. It crept further still, settling into his arms like a bone-deep chill that refused to let up, settling into his lungs and freezing them until they were brittle enough to shatter at a single breathe. It did not stop there, oh no it wasn't done just yet. He felt his ribcage be seized and then his legs go numb.

And from the numbness, Danny felt his heart slow until he could no longer feel its once steady beats. He felt his lungs rattle with every breath, as though they were unwanted. He felt his eyes burn beneath their eyelids, threatening to burn right through them with their destructive green glow. He felt his mouth go dry as though all the moisture had been frozen.

Danny was left trembling, he felt numb ~~\- overly sensitive~~ ~~,~~ freezing cold ~~\- drenched in sweat~~ ~~,~~ and reeling from the pain of it all ~~\- he couldn’t feel pain.~~

He was a mix of emotions and sensations and he couldn’t make sense of it at all. He felt more than heard the _crackle snap_ of a machine turned on, and he felt more than heard the trembling screams of his friends. He felt _everything_ and _nothing_ and it was _too much-_

Like a rubber band, time snapped right back into place, filled only with the harsh _crackle snap_ and his own screams.

Danny had died on the hottest day of the year and it had been one of the coldest days of his existence.

Danny felt like he was relearning life all over again. It took him a while to respond to his friends, longer still to respond to his surroundings. He felt oddly out of touch with his own body whilst simultaneously being the mos attuned he had ever been.

It had taken Danny a heart-wrenchingly long time to remember how to breathe, and then longer to ignore the pain that came with each empty rattle.

Sometimes Danny bled green, sometimes his eyes were too reflective of light, sometimes he forgot to keep his desperate charade going and let his heart rest still and it desperately logged too, sometimes he forgot to keep his body temperature high enough and sometimes he forgot to keep his eyes the deep blue he _knew_ they were.

Sometimes Danny couldn’t sleep because he feared that one night, as he slept and no longer made the effort to beat his heart, full his lungs and run his blood he wouldn’t get back up because there was nothing to wake to.

It took time to learn that unless he ate his parents’ ectoplasm soaked food, he lost energy. It took time to learn he couldn’t step in and save his friends whenever he should like. It took time to learn that it hurt _less_ to sink into whatever that sour pooling in his stomach was than it did to _ignore_ it like he so desperately wanted to.

(It took time to learn not to claw at his skin because the _wrong_ and _foreign_ feeling of his own body would never leave, only break nails and leave him bleeding that _awful_ green goop he once called blood.

It took time to get used to the bone-deep feeling of _cold_ and to understand no amount of warmth could ever work, for his body held warmth as a sieve does water.

It took time to understand that just because his _too-tight_ skin didn’t fit, and his blood wasn’t _his,_ and his bones didn’t _match,_ and warmth didn’t _hold_ and lungs didn’t _full,_ did not mean he could try and drain himself of all the things _wrong.)_

~~(It certainly hadn’t stopped him yet)~~

Danny was no stranger to the cold, but this _cold_ this _foreign-sour-sickly-alien-_ ** _wrong_** _cold_ was a stranger to him. Danny was no stranger to himself but his body didn’t fit and wasn’t warm enough, or _alive enough_. Danny was no stranger to green, but his _eyes._

Danny was no stranger, but his reflection told a different story. ~~It told the story of a dead boy walking.~~

**Author's Note:**

> I know I said you might be getting the Slytherin Hinata and I swear it's coming. Anyways,, I hope you guys enjoyed reading this! Feel free to kudos, comment or bookmark :)


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